


Fill the Solitude

by windandthestars



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windandthestars/pseuds/windandthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We've been held hostage in that city for months, the same buildings, the same rooms. I'm supposed to be old and decrepit; you don't exist. I think we've earned ourselves a bit of fun."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill the Solitude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [formallyintroduced](https://archiveofourown.org/users/formallyintroduced/gifts).



> Sex and a bit of angst. Written because Ashley is awesome and provided wonderful incentive.

She's surprised even herself this time; sneaking herself out of her fledgling Sanctuary and springing Nikola from the hotel, the makeup, and the ridiculous clothes. The drive through the countryside had been her idea as well. As much as she loved the towering city, she had missed the fresh air and the feeling of sun on her face.

She lets Nikola drive. It's somewhat foolish perhaps, given his inclination toward irresponsible and dangerous behavior, but for once he seems content to behave, as content as she is with the sharp winter air and the blue sky reflected across the windshield as they slow to a stop along the side of a back country road.

There's a farmhouse about a mile back, but there's nothing here but fields, the mountains of the Catskills tiny blips on the horizon. They won't make it that far north today; she has to return Nikola before he's missed, shapeshifters are only useful to an extent and she has work to do back: supervising construction, ordering wallpaper, overseeing the beginning of habitat creation.

"I hope you don't mind the sight of dead corn." Nikola turns the key in the ignition and the purr of the engine fades away, the car suddenly quiet. There are birds outside in the distance, a breeze rustling through what’s left of the corn, but between the window of glass beside her and the way Nikola's suddenly watching her, Helen has yet to take notice.

"It's better than endless block of buildings." She looks passed him to the field on the other side of the road. "Although I suppose not by much."

"It's quiet."

She tips her head to the side listening, then smiles faintly. "If you're suggesting we go about remedying that."

"It only seems right."

"Nikola-" she warns, more out of habit than out of any real feeling.

"We've been held hostage in that city for months, the same buildings, the same rooms. I'm supposed to be old and decrepit; you don't exist. I think we've earned ourselves a bit of fun."

"It's a rental."

"It's a nice rental. Too nice." Nikola wraps his fingers around her hand where it rests over the gear shift. "And you're wearing the ring you picked up in that speakeasy all those years back."

"Is it?" She's playing coy, brushing his hand aside to twist the ring around her finger, study it.

"You talked that poor man into selling it to you, didn't you?"

"I paid the market value."

"You ripped him off."

"I did not."

"You flashed him the ring, that flirty innocent smile, and unbuttoned your blouse. You did, didn't you?"

"I did no such thing!" Helen does her best to frown at him as he smirks back at her. "You were watching me the entire time."

"Your skirt is a bit distracting."

"My skirt?" The question ends a bit breathlessly as she shivers at his touch, two deft fingers toying with the hem of her skirt.

"I've always loved you in form fitting clothing, all those curves, that bit of swagger you have when you're thinking naughty thoughts. You've been a bad girl, Helen."

"I hardly see how that's relevant. You're not one to grant absolution."

Nikola hums, hand under her jaw now, thumb tracing her bottom lip. "Penance is another matter."

Helen swallows and raises an eyebrow, unable to speak as his thumb tugs lightly against her lip.

"Confess your sins."

She waits a heartbeat and then two. He sighs quietly, hand moving along her jaw until it's cupped against the side of her face.

She presses her eyes shut against his knowing sneer. "I told him I was married. I told him I was looking for a little _fun_." She lets the word sit in the air between them as they both breathe, her skin tingling as his fingers drum lightly against her knee.

"He took me in the back to look at some of the cars in the showroom. You were still in the bathroom, fixing your hair or whatever it was. I pouted a bit when he offered a sedan. I wanted something flashy."

"Flashy." Nikola muses as she continues, his lips brushing lightly against the hollow of her throat.

"I popped a button accidentally." She wraps a hand in Nikola's hair and tugs him back lightly until she's frowning at him. "Apparently someone's taken to making a few alterations to my wardrobe in order to alleviate their boredom."

Nikola huffs and rolls his eyes before returning to his exploration of her neck.

"He seemed to be enjoying the show so, I popped another a bit more intentionally."

"Like this?" There's a faint snapping sound and a sharp clink as the top button of her blouse knocks against the window and rolls to the floor.

"Nikola." She smacks his shoulder and glares at him, fighting the urge to raise a hand to cover the expose sliver of skin his antics have revealed.

"It was a lost cause anyway," He grins at her, settling back into his seat. "A loose button always is."

"And I suppose you'd be content with finding a few more."

He mocks consideration for a moment, toying with her, before inclining his head toward the back of the car. "I'm not sure I'd be able to find them all, there's no room up here for a proper examination."

Climbing into the back is awkward, the back of the seat leaves her with only a few choices, none of them dignified. Her skirt hiked up, she turns, ignoring his hand as it skates down over the puckered fabric as she tucks herself into the back. Nikola for his part seems to glide, melting into the empty space around her, appearing suddenly with a knowing grin.

"Put your feet up on the seat and scoot down."

She screws up her face as the tactless order but complies, leaving her shoes on the carpeting by his feet for him to place up front. The leather's cool against her stockinged feet, her skirt and blouse keeping the chill off the rest of her skin as she presses her feet below the window and her shoulders against the door. There’s more room back here; their movements are less restricted.

Nikola wraps a hand around her shoulder, pushing until she bends her knees and slides all the way down onto the seat. He seems to tower over her from this angle despite the fact he’s bent to fit into what little space they have. He hovers over her grinning confidently, making her shiver. It takes everything she has to stop herself from reaching up to pull him down for a kiss, level the playing field. Nikola's not one to be rushed, and so she sighs and attempts to hold herself in check.

His fingers flutter over her blouse for a moment, then pluck at the buttons examining them. His exploration leaves the fabric shifting over her skin, tickling, but provides no real contact as he hums to himself.

"These are all going to have to go. They're defective. Sub par." A single long black nail appears, curls toward his hand and snaps each button free from its thread before she can protest. "I suppose I could leave these." His finger hovers over the decorative buttons on the front of her skirt, before he retracts the nail with an almost disgusted snarl. "Fashion these days."

He hadn't been complaining moments before but she lets the comment slide, watching him as he studies the way her body moves, chest, ribs, lungs rising and expanding as she breathes. Her eyes darken under his gaze as she watches his gaze settle on the pulse point of her neck. "Enjoying yourself already are we, Helen?"

"You said so yourself," she frowns sounding much more breathless than she had intended. "We've been rats in a maze for weeks on end. Anything's more exciting than that."

His snarl this time is real, but he makes no other comment as he brushes half of her blouse to the side, the fabric spilling over the seat toward the floor.

"I suppose Mr. Car Salesman enjoyed this bit of lace." He mutters moodily as he winds a finger under the strap of her bra, the fabric giving way without effort.

"Nikola," She snaps, grabbing at his wrist, yanking it away. His other hand reaches her wrist, pressing until she releases her grasp with an angry hiss at the pain he's inflicted.

"I've cut you." He draws her palm to his lips and laps at the string of bloody droplets on her skin.

"How many times have I told you-" she continues unabated despite the gasp and contented sigh that slips free. "No nails. No defiling my lingerie. No jealousy. I've had enough of that for a lifetime." She finishes darkly.

"Oh Helen," he smirks, teeth skirting along her injured flesh, drawing more blood to the surface. "Don't play coy with me. We've known each other far too long."

She's about to snap back at him, call him on his arrogance when his free hand slips along the outside of her thigh, bunching her skirt at her waist, instead she bites back a moan and shifts away from the back of the seat so he can release her hand and repeat the motion on the other side.

"All these protests for such a naughty girl." Nikola runs a finger down between her breasts, stopping at her navel. "It makes a man wonder if it's worth the effort to take all these clothes off."

"Shut up Nikola." She growls, sitting up to shove his suit jacket from his shoulder, her blouse slipping to the floor. Her fingers work the buttons of his shirt, deft and quick as he laughs dryly over her continued complaints. "You wouldn't want to be branded as a tease now would you."

"That would be something, as a last mortal act." He muses momentarily, suddenly too serious for her liking. Leaning closer, she kisses him, a hand tugging at the back of his head, the other pulling at his pants.

The banter, the teasing slips away as her fingers rake over his bare skin, their kisses deepen. She pulls away panting, ignoring the unnatural black of his eyes. His hands are bruising on her hips and any doubt slips from her mind. They're never gentle, soft, or caring; that's for another place, another time, another world. Here it's all about gasping, moans, screams, and the way he can't resist making her beg.

There's never enough room, enough air, but they make due, contorting, stretching, thrusting, until Nikola comes, buried deep inside her, his cheek pressed against the side of her face, both of them panting.

"Promise me you won't do something stupid like marry a salesman." He mutters as she slips her eyes shut to drink in the last moments that they'll have together.

"Nikola."

"You've been showing remarkably poor taste as of late."

She laughs sadly. "You've always been so ever fond of saying that. We should get you back." She cuts off any revelry as she pulls away, shifting into a seated position. "I'll drive."

"We wouldn't want to be late." He sighs, settling his shirt into it's proper place on his shoulders. "Not for the first grand act of that Sanctuary of yours: death of a vampire part one."

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken some artistic liberties with the time period because A. I intended this to be set in the 60's but Nikola insisted on being a sentimental mope and B. ~~While they do have some rather nice uses~~ I don't do cars, old or new. Title is an unintentional borrowing of Florence's "Landscape"


End file.
